


forever united here, somehow

by fiercynn



Category: Smallville
Genre: Coffee, Economics, Enemies, Future Fic, Globalization, Journalism, M/M, Romance, Superheroes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-23
Updated: 2009-07-23
Packaged: 2017-10-10 16:08:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/101599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiercynn/pseuds/fiercynn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>METROPOLIS, KS – Lexcorp announced a plan to launch a new chain of cafes called Cadmus Coffee nationwide on July 22, 2009.</p>
            </blockquote>





	forever united here, somehow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sparklyslug](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparklyslug/gifts).



> Futurefic, but only follows canon up to the end of Season 5. And augh, okay, the grasp of economics and trade and international development in this fic is completely bullshit, alright? If you can suspend belief enough for superheroes, please do so for those as well. PLEASE. Title from Kelly Clarkson's "My Life Would Suck Without You", heh. Originally posted [here](http://fiercynn.livejournal.com/49624.html).

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE  
July 22, 2009

**Lexcorp launches chain of coffee shops**

METROPOLIS, KS – Lexcorp announced a plan to launch a new chain of cafes called Cadmus Coffee nationwide on July 22, 2009.

"I've always had a personal interest in coffee," said CEO Lex Luthor. "I believe Lexcorp can bring fresh new strategies into the industry, and I'm very excited about the potential we have to make our trade sustainable and fair while keeping our products affordable for the American people.

Lexcorp, formerly a subsidiary of Luthorcorp, has been an independent business for the past seven years, forcing a buy-out of its parent company five years ago. Lexcorp specializes in aerospace engineering and technology, but the company is known for expanding into numerous industries, creating a diverse, multi-national corporation.

"We're proud to have such a wide-range of projects," said CIO Talia Al-Ghul. "Whatever people say, when Lexcorp enters a field, it dominates the entire arena while making our products the best quality for our customers. We're sure Cadmus will do the same."

"After all, I got my start running a fertilizer factory," Luthor added. "Coffee is a welcome step up."

*

"You _bought out the Talon? _"

Through the phone, Clark could hear Lana drumming her fingers on her desk. "Even with personal connections, Clark, you need a better reason to call the CFO of Lexcorp than to merely state the obvious about one of our business acquisitions."

God, she even sounded like Lex. "What the hell is wrong with you, Lana? The Talon!"

"For a small Kansas town, there's a remarkably high level of opportunity for an espresso business. We took advantage of that."

"You know that's not what I meant." Clark fiddled with a ballpoint pen on his desk, trying not to snap it between his fingers.

A sigh. "Clark, Lex and I talked about it. You do remember that the Talon was a joint business venture between us in the first place, don't you? It seemed only fitting. And I have to say, in a way it's nice to know that it's a part of my life again."

"Yeah, as one of a million carbon-copied chain stores around the country. And that's not even close to the point, Lana. You started the Talon as an independent coffee house. Lex's part-ownership wasn't an extension of his work at LuthorCorp; he paid for it out of his own pocket. And now you want to ruin its small-town charm with – with corporate schemes and flat-line products!"

"Times change."

In his mind, Clark could almost see the shrug of her slim shoulders as she – sipped her _coffee_, probably. He tried not to look across the city to verify the theory.

"Now, if there isn't anything else I can do for you, Clark –"

"Oh, I get it. You have a lot on your agenda, right?"

"Well…"

"What, Lana?" Clark breathed through his teeth in a frustrated huff. "You think Lex giving you responsibility, letting you lead this operation, means that he's letting you in? He's pushing you off on a small project so you don't find out what he's doing on the side. Just like he did when you were married."

"Clark, Lex made me his CFO because he trusts me."

"You mean, because you're his only ex so far that never tried to kill him!"

"Exactly. Besides, he always saw that I had business acumen. I started the Talon when I was fifteen, remember? Lex hates to see talent go to waste."

Well, that was…true, actually. But still.

"If you'd like a formal interview, Clark, you can call our press liaison," Lana said after a moment, when Clark hadn't answered. "I'm sure you know the number." Her voice softened slightly and she said, "I'll see you around, Clark," but it still had that coolness to it that had existed for years, ever since Lana had become distanced and careful, like – like Lex had.

Not that Clark had time to think about that now, when Lex and Lana had seen fit to invade home territory again. Really. The _Talon_.

*

"Maybe they're poisoning people."

Clark knew the words were stupid as soon as they came out of his mouth, but even he didn't have the powers to take them back.

"Do I even need to remind you that Lex is a good businessman? Even if he has nefarious plans, he's not going to go around destroying his consumer base," said Lois, not looking up from her laptop. "Damn it, I hate MacBooks. How do you set the right click again?"

"Yeah…" Clark muttered, leaning over and fixing it for her. "I know."

"We'll chalk it off as another day in the pursuit of temporary insanity by Clark Kent."

Clark ignored her. "But still, what if they're adding some kind of addictive substance? I wouldn't put it past –"

"Okay, firstly, Clark, you wouldn't put anything past Lex, so you need to stop using that as an explanation." Her fingers moved quickly over the keyboard, though she still gave him exasperated glances as she spoke. "Secondly, I'm pretty sure every major food chain since McDonalds has been accused of trying to make their customers addicted, and none of the accusations have ever proved true. Are you going to try to get Batman to infiltrate the FDA now?"

Clark pondered. "He probably wouldn't mind."

"Okay, ignore that, I forgot he's as paranoid as you are in some ways. Seriously, the best idea you've had is that this is all a show to distract people from something else going on. But even if that's true, there's nothing wrong with the coffee chain itself. It just means Lex is being sneaky. Which you already knew."

"Yes, but –"

Lois tilted the top of her laptop down, glared at him, and let out a small sigh. "Will you let go of it for now? I'm not happy about the Talon, but otherwise it seems harmless. Or at least go bug our favorite foreign correspondent for a while so I can work."

Chloe didn't prove to be much more help. "Seriously, Clark," she said, sounding just like Lois (at least, unlike Lex and Lana, they had an excuse – they were _related_) as he squeezed into a barstool seat at the kitchen in her tiny Tokyo apartment. "I'm as ready as you are for the next brilliant and devastating Lexcorp exposé, but this isn't it."

Chloe pushed two mugs of cold water across the counter for Clark to take out his frustration on. He glared; in an instant they were boiling, and she dropped a tea bag in each, eyeing him. "Why not?" he said, trying not to sound as petulant as he felt.

"Clark, this is Lex Luthor we're talking about. I'm pretty sure this is just one of his whims."

"Lex doesn't have whims."

"Of course he does! He's just so obsessive and thorough about them that they seem like something else. You should know. You were one of them."

He was _what? _ Clark opened his mouth. And then closed it. After a moment he narrowed his eyes and said, "Well, don't come complaining to me when he invades the Japanese market with this. I'm pretty sure Asia is the next big thing on his agenda."

*

Lex's next press conference was held at the Lillian Luthor Convention Center where the first Cadmus Coffee would be unveiled.

Lois had somehow managed to finagle the job out of Perry for them, and Clark was grateful as he, Lois, and Jimmy entered the packed conference room a few minutes late. This was news, yes – Lexcorp was not known for dealing in the food industry, let alone anything as contentious or specialized as coffee, and frankly, any business that wanted to launch such a large campaign in this economy would be heavily scrutinized. But there was something more than that – a kind of curiosity that Lex provoked. After all, Lexcorp was doing fairly well, all things considered, and maybe that was a story in itself.

Lex was talking already, describing Lexcorp's vision in grandiose terms that somehow seemed to fit his stature, making preliminary details seem important. Clark was used to Lex's eloquent rambling, though, and years of practice had made him realize that very little could actually be used against Lex. Not that he was biased.

So he was surprised when Lex actually began to reach the crux of the issue, the meaty stuff that as usually too controversial to even touch when a reporter asked.

Lex always liked a challenge.

"I've always had a problem with the concept of fair-trade, especially with coffee," said Lex. There were murmurs from the crowd, but he continued, not seeming at all perturbed. "It sounds very good on the surface, but from an economic standpoint, it's a bad idea. The laws of supply and demand dictate that as supply goes up, demand decreases. In fair-trade economics, the producers, in this case coffee-growers, receive high prices for their product, which naturally means that it becomes a very lucrative business. But as more and more people decide that growing coffee is a good profession, coffee production increases, so supply goes up, and suddenly the prices will crash. So on a small scale fair-trade works, but it's dangerous as it gets bigger. And it's the nature of economics that it will get bigger."

By now, the crowd was staring. Clark tried not to sigh. Why didn't everyone know this already? It was one of the hard truths of trying to be benevolent in business practices. Even Clark, with his characteristic rose-colored lenses, could see that.

"Fortunately, Lexcorp has a plan to keep it from growing too big. We've developed a business model for new coffee growers to help them along. On a basic level, we will encourage new fair-trade plantations to start up and have regular production for five to seven years. At this point, if the growers have shown a reasonable profit, they will be incorporated into Lexcorp's new career support program that will include training for numerous other professions that will hopefully prove more lucrative. Lexcorp plans to fund education in every country we support as well to ensure that everyone who takes part will have the same foundation. This will also include scholarships to premier universities. Hopefully, anyone who enters the fair-trade coffee business in order to make more money will have further aspirations and the motivation to keep them in the program."

Lex grinned, and the journalist in Clark tried to prevent him from mentally describing it as "shark-like", because, what a cliché, even if it was true.

"I'll now take questions from the press. Yes, you."

"Linda Park, Central City Register. Mr. Luthor, in what countries will Lexcorp implement this plan?"

"So far we are based in Brazil, Ethiopia, and Colombia. We have plans to expand to Vietnam and Indonesia, and also to Côte d'Ivoire, where the coffee industry has been in a slow decline, but we hope to bring it back up." Lex's French was as smooth as ever, and Clark had sudden memories of a trial, plane tickets to Paris, a glowing blue room that scared Clark more than Smallville's deadly green ever had.

That, more than anything, made Clark raise his hand quickly, feeling childishly like a nerd in school but just as determined.

Lex glanced at Clark, the edge of his mouth quirking. "Yes, Mr. Kent?"

Although he knew Lex couldn't see it, Clark narrowed his eyes at him – "Mr. Kent" was still his _father_ to him, especially when the words came out of Lex's mouth. Another subtle way that Lex made fun of him, while still trying to prove a point, probably.

"Clark Kent, Daily Planet," Clark said anyway. "It seems Lexcorp is running under the assumption that everyone will want to do things their way."

"Clark!" hissed Jimmy, eyes wide. Lois just rolled her eyes.

"How does Lexcorp plan to control their partners that choose not to be part of the education system?" Clark continued, and even more people tittered.

"'Control' is a rather harsh word, don't you think?" said Lex. "Of course, if various partners demonstrate that they want to do nothing else but grow coffee, we will make adjustments with our other producers to ensure that everyone is reaching their full potential and keeping the market within reasonable levels. But we also plan to educate more people to the pitfalls of the fair-trade business, in the hope that they will come to the same logical conclusions that we have, and choose the right path for them."

So they'd use the same bully tactics to get what they wanted and have coffee producers clamoring to be part of their program, and simultaneously win public approval. Lex's plans were nothing if not multi-faceted.

Lex beckoned to another reporter. "Next question. Ms. Vale?"

*

Clark managed to score an appointment with Lex the next day – an interview slot, really, and Clark obviously had connections. But not enough to go against anything that Lex really wanted, and Clark wasn't sure why Lex had never denied him interviews even when he had all the power and ammunition to do so. He'd always given Clark free rein to question him, even in the middle of a shattering investigation – he just chose to answer only the questions he liked.

Clark sat in the waiting room of the CEO's office, refusing as politely as he could when Lex's assistant offered him a cup of coffee, trying to keep himself from looking into Lex's office. Lex's penthouse was lined with steel, Clark knew, but once again he hadn't bothered to hide his office even from Superman.

The important businesswoman that Lex had been meeting with left a little while later, and Lex's assistant nodded towards Clark, who straightened his shoulders and entered the office. Lex was sitting at his desk in front of giant windows, the light framing him in a hazy glow, and Clark didn't know whether to hate that or feel awed by it, or both.

"Mr. Kent. What can I do for you?" Lex said.

"Lex. You don't need to pretend there's all this distance between us to hide your animosity," said Clark, irritated, coming forward to take his seat.

Up closer, Lex looked as careful as always, cold and yet knowing, and now that Clark could actually look at him properly, see the premature lines under his eyes and the hard edge of his mouth, he felt something drop out of his stomach again. Not like it had when he was young and full of admiration – the opposite of that, in fact, the sensation that something important, no, _vital_ was missing.

"Actually," said Lex, as if divulging a huge secret, "I've found that formality often heightens tension in an exchange. Besides, I thought you'd be honored to be recognized by the same name as your father."

Not by you, Clark thought. "And I suppose you like being called Mr. Luthor."

"No. But then, it's not _you_ that calls me Mr. Luthor, is it?"

And there it was, the requisite hint about Clark's other life. It always made Clark feel lost – not out of fear of Lex, but because he usually had no idea what to say or how to react. They were doing some kind of mysterious, intricate dance around the facts and Clark, while not clumsy, could never come close to Lex in any measure of grace, agility, and poise.

Sometimes Clark wondered how long Lex had known, but he each time he eventually decided it didn't matter. Other times, he wondered why Lex never really did anything about it, and while he could think of lots of perfectly rational reasons, none of them quite fit.

That was harder to not think about.

Clark cleared his throat. "I came to ask you about the Talon."

"The Talon? Oh, and by 'ask', you mean 'accuse', I suppose?" Lex cocked his head a little. "Would you like to know what ulterior motive I have for buying the Talon, Clark?"

"Enlighten me," Clark said.

"I still miss that espresso machine. I had the same model at the Luthor Mansion, you might recall, but it was sold years ago." Lex continued on for a while on the merits of his favorite device, infusing the whole speech with sarcasm, and somehow that made Clark even angrier than before.

It wasn't the fact that he'd bought the Talon, exactly; it was the way Lex had gone about it, heartless and flighty, doing whatever he wanted just because he wanted it, almost like a –

"Was I a whim?" Clark said suddenly.

And that sounded pathetic, didn't it.

Lex blinked. "Excuse me?"

"It. A whim," Clark managed.

Lex was looking at him oddly, even in the spectrum of odd Lex-looks. "No," he said finally.

"Even the Talon?"

"No," Lex repeated. Then – "Is this on the record, Clark?"

Considering this had to be the most useless interview Clark had ever conducted, filled more with empty spaces and silent grievances than with anything of substance, there was probably very little point. "Might as well not be."

"Then, off the record – I have very little interest in the Talon itself. But it's a piece of my past, and you know how much respect I have for preserving and exploring the past." Lex studied him. "I wouldn't call that a whim, precisely. Maybe a gesture. Or a keepsake."

"And Cadmus Coffee in general?"

Lex laughed. "Oh, no, that is completely serious. I wanted to be able to get a good cup of coffee anywhere I happened to go. And to quote an old platitude I'm sure your father was familiar with, if you want something done right –"

Which was maybe the definition of Lex Luthor, really, take on everything, maybe even the world, to figure out how to do it better.

"Sometimes taking on that much on your own is dangerous, Lex," Clark couldn't help but say.

"Maybe a lesson for both of us," Lex said. "I'm afraid I have quite a bit of work to do, so this little chat will have to end. I'll let you know if the Talon is a good enough keepsake, Clark," he said, a hint of a smirk at the corners of his lips, "or if I'm likely to need anything better."

An afternoon completely wasted, both for Clark's job and his personal investigation, and Clark couldn't help but feel less and less satisfied with every corner he turned.

*

It was Lex who had taught Clark about good coffee in the first place, after all.

On autumn afternoons in Smallville when Clark was too tired or too Lana-mopey to go to the Talon and deal with the extension of high school social life, he took his homework to the Manor. Lex always seemed glad to see him, even if he was in the middle of some horrendous business call and could only roll his eyes at Clark from his desk, who would grin back sympathetically as he got his textbooks out. The couches in Lex's office were comfier than something that expensive ought to be, and as long as none of Lex's household help was looking, Clark was allowed to put his (socked) feet up on the table.

When Lex was done, though, he would make them both coffee, pure dark espresso shots from his fancy Italian machine, and they would sit around in the kitchen talking as if Lex had all the time in the world to lounge around and hang out with a high school kid.

(He didn't, of course. If Clark had taken the time to think any harder about that he would've known it; Clark never tried.)

"It doesn't matter what you put it in it, Clark," Lex had told him, amused, when Clark admitted that he had a fondness for mochas and other sugary drinks. "If you happen to like your drinks too sweet and milky, that's your preference. What matters is the coffee itself - from the quality of the beans to the roast, from the grinding to the way the shot is packed, even the storage - all of those come together in creating the perfect crema."

Lex stretched, lean and catlike, before taking another sip from his cup. "That's why you can never get a truly good cup of coffee at Starbucks, not because of the caramel macchiato syndrome, but because they burn their roast. And anyone who has good taste for espresso will be able to discern that underneath all the foam and sugar and flavor."

And, really, that's how Lex was, too, wasn't it? All polish and gloss on the surface, so much that people saw it as snobbery or arrogance, not to mention the aura of power around him that made him feared and respected at the same time; but underneath it all there was something fresh and earthy and real. For a time, for a time that felt long ago, Clark had been able to reach into him and find it without even thinking.

"Someday we'll go to the National Barista Championship and I'll show you real coffee - or the International," Lex had mused, as if he were going to show Clark the world and lay it all before him as just another Lex-like gift, and Clark remembered being surprised that he hadn't suggested Italy, even, knowing Lex so well, seeing that true core without using x-ray vision at all.

That ability had gone but Clark's taste for coffee hadn't. Ironically, it always made him think of Lex, and sometime in his twenties that constant reminder had gotten to be too much. Superman, good ole red-white-and-blue superhero that he was, he'd switched to drinking only tea.

*

The first Cadmus Coffee opened.

The world, surprisingly, did not end.

Though according to various financiers and economists, it might as well have done so. Lex could always be counted on to have some unexpected ace in his cuff, and it must have made the effect he'd been hoping for: the prices were so dramatically low that Lexcorp had an immediate advantage without needing to take the time to build a consumer base.

People flocked to the stores, not minding the wait or the long lines when most any grande-sized drink could be bought for less than two dollars, even with the usual additional flavors that people requested, or different types of milk, and still tasted remotely good (of course).

It was remarkable. It was also somewhat suspicious.

"I don't know, Supes, I may not be with on this one," said Wally infuriatingly. "I like Cadmus. Their caramel macchiatos are to die for."

"That just shows you have no taste," Ollie pointed out. Count on him to be a normal coffee snob. Ollie'd even lived in Seattle once, hadn't he.

Clark frowned at both of them. "Do I really have to remind you both that this is hardly the point?"

Bruce gave him a sympathetic glance from where he sat at the Justice League vid-comm., which in terms of Bat-expressions meant he just gave him a look that didn't seem to find any fault in Clark himself, but that was mostly enough for Clark. It was nice to have a best friend more paranoid than he was.

On the other hand, Bruce seemed to have no interest in helping Clark at all – he generally deferred all things Lex to Clark's authority. "Too messy" was how he'd explained it to Clark, and it made no sense at the time because Batman was supposed to get his hands dirty. But more and more he thought that maybe it had been a joke – again, a Bat-joke, one that only Bruce thought was funny – at Clark's expense.

Ollie wasn't nearly as subtle. "No, you're right – the point has nothing to do with coffee," he said, smirking.

Clark crossed his arms over his chest. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, nothing," said Ollie innocently, shooting the Flash a grin. "Just that you should be careful. Obsession can be dangerous."

Clark was too grown-up and important to stomp off and sulk, so he tried his best to make a dignified departure as he went to his quarters in the Watchtower. Wally was still laughing, though.

*

At least at work, he had more of a foot to stand on now.

"Look, I'm not just being irrational," said Clark, though he realized it sounded a bit like crying wolf at this point. "No matter how good a businessman Lex is, they can't still be turning a profit at these prices unless they started paying less for the beans. And they claim that 65% of their coffee purchases are bought at fair-trade value. There's clearly a discrepancy there." He paused, and then half-pleaded, "It makes _sense_, Perry."

His boss leaned back in his chair and turned his gaze on him. "Yeah, it does, Kent," he said after a minute. "And I'll let you investigate it."

Clark knew that tone of voice, though. "But…?"

"But Lane's sitting this one out – I need her on the crime beat. Someone's got to continue these Superman stories. And, Kent? I'm not sending you out of the country. Dig up your dirt here. You do have the right connections; I should know."

Clark gave a small grin. He was finally getting somewhere.

The official PR people were little help, of course. "We've basically managed to cut other costs substantially," said the rep that Lana had directed him to. "In layman's terms, Lexcorp has taken charge of the whole process to make it more efficient – packing, shipping, factory technology, and so on. Plus, all the coffee plantations and dairy farms that Lexcorp supports are now benefiting from our fertilizer, sold to them at lower prices."

Those were all true, but hardly enough to count for the huge drop. Clark kept digging.

It was amazing how much the lowered coffee prices affected other areas. Clark couldn't even track them all, and he had to consult many different economists and analysts to figure out what were actually direct results of the change, but the results were numerous. In the recession coffee sales had gone down somewhat, of course – perhaps less than some other goods because of the way people clung to their addictions – but now they were rising rapidly, especially with the easy offer of a decaf option that most coffee shops didn't make obvious. Lexcorp also seemed to be following the Henry Ford model of paying their employees decently to make them spend that money on the product, and as shops sprung up employment was sure to rise to at least a small extent, which increased consumerism in the area. Cigarette sales even dropped because many smokers seemed to be deciding that caffeine was a cheaper and safer addiction.

And of course, Lexcorp stock went up, more and more of their shops opened, and the public loved it. Clark researched.

*

At first when Lex used to come over to the Kent farm to hang out – well, he always came with an excuse, some produce to buy or an message to give, but Clark soon got to be able to tell – Clark felt nervous, and just a little bit shy. He knew money didn't usually matter between them, but it was still _weird_ hosting a billionaire's son, someday a billionaire in his own right, in his rickety old barn. Lex, of course, loved it, the picturesque view (down to Lana's house, which Lex teased him mercilessly about), the old couch that he plopped himself down on whenever Clark was doing homework, the stairs where he would watch Clark doing his chores, all the while talking and explaining things and giving Clark ideas about the world that didn't seem small enough to fit in this barn.

Clark asked him about it once. "Lex, why do you come here when you could be hanging out in your mansion?" It was a stupid question, perhaps, but as usual he blurted it out without thinking.

Lex looked almost surprised. "Well – you're here, Clark," he said slowly, and something warmed up inside of Clark.

He knew the answer – he always did – and it wasn't that friendship was an unusual concept, of course, but Lex managed to make it different from anyone else like he did with everything. And Clark couldn't help but feel special when Lex told him things like "You changed my future when you saved me" and "You're the only real friend I've ever had", no matter how dangerous the words were as well.

The way Lex so earnestly tried to fit into Clark's family pleased him too. Sometimes they'd just go sit in Clark's kitchen and talk because Clark knew that Lex loved it there too, the worn-down counter tiles, the window boxes, the mismatched dishes and mugs they'd accumulated over the years.

"Lex, would you like a cup of coffee?" Martha would ask.

"Yes, thank you, Mrs. Kent," Lex said gratefully. And Clark knew it wasn't politeness, even if they couldn't afford fancy shade-grown beans or anything more than their plain old coffee pot. Lex wanted to fit in. And somehow, out of all the places in his life, he thought that the homey, plain Kent farm might be the place.

But of course that would never happen, and even before Lex and Clark became – whatever they were now, there was the voice of skepticism constantly ringing in their ears. Jonathan would come in and freeze at the sight of Lex, just for an instant, yet it was completely noticeable to everyone. And at that point Lex would be jolted out of his imaginary reality and within a few minutes he'd leave, still making an effort to be as polite as possible, but in a way that took all the life out of the room.

Clark would trudge back off to the barn or his room and hear his mother scolding his father as soon as he'd left the room, forgetting as usual about super-hearing. "Jonathan, that was uncalled for. You know Lex has been nothing but good to Clark."

"I know, Martha, I know," Jonathan would sigh. "I just wish he wasn't so – obsessed with our son. It makes me nervous."

There was that word again, _obsession_, familiar in those times but not in the present. Because Clark had always been on the other end of it.

His father thought that Lex's focus on Clark meant he had ulterior motives, and whatever they were, Jonathan didn't like them. In a way, that was how Chloe thought as well. When she said that Lex had whims, she didn't mean that they were temporary, impulsive, or unimportant – just that while Lex might care about their consequences, he didn't care about the object of interest itself, not in the way that most people did. She thought Clark was a whim because Lex saw him only as a tool, not a person; because he wanted to use him instead of be his friend, and own him instead of actually caring about him. It was a fine distinction, and it certainly could have been true.

But, well. Chloe was wrong about that too. Clark knew something about obsession now, and it was never, ever as simple, bad, or one-sided as it seemed. He knew what it was like to want to know everything about someone's secrets, to spend all his time burning up inside in frustration and anger, to put all his energy into this because he thought he was doing what was right and merely _because he wanted to_ –

– and, oh. That explained a lot about the both of them.

*

"I figured it out," Clark told Lois, tossing a thick folder onto the table.

To her credit, she didn't make fun of his dull expression. "And?" she said, almost gently.

"Lexcorp, using their massive global influence, has managed to push most of the countries that they buy coffee from to increase their funding of public education, which means Lexcorp pays less for the coffee-growers support program, and simultaneously got them to start subsidizing coffee plantations heavily. And I mean _really_ heavily. All of which allowed Lexcorp to negotiate lower prices for beans that wouldn't hurt the farmers."

Lois stared at him. "Clark," she said after a moment. "You do realize how significant this is, right?"

"Of course," said Clark, his tone tinged with bitterness.

"This isn't just about _coffee_. This is about Lexcorp affecting the politics and economies of other nations in a very major way."

"I _know_, Lois. And I know this is a huge story. I'm surprised it hasn't come out yet through other channels – well, actually, I'm not that surprised, because the funny thing is that to Lex, it is just about coffee. Meaning only someone who approached it from that angle would be able to uncover all the threads." Clark shook his head.

"I guess your paranoid delusions do pay off once in a while," said Lois with a grin.

Clark couldn't even muster a smile in return. "It's not even all that good news for Lexcorp, really. There's going to be a lot of protest about how powerful they are and about corporate interference and their contribution to the trend of American cultural imperialism. But…"

"But it's not a giant death-laser designed to destroy Metropolis?" said Lois knowingly.

Now Clark did smile, though it was rueful. "It's not even a sweatshop scandal or a damn Nike _advertising_ fiasco. And most people are going to love it. They like shows of strength that benefit others and seem generous."

"Clark…" Lois hesitated. "In a way, it's a lot like something Superman might do, in a different context."

Clark looked skeptical.

"Well, it's like they're being a big hero, right? They might be saving people in a way that is interfering, but one thing that you and Lex have in common is that, to some extent, you both think the ends justify the means."

"What?"

"It's true, Clark. I do happen to trust your judgment a whole lot more," she reassured, "but you can't deny the parallel."

"I guess," said Clark, a little uncertainly.

"And another thing. The way it was covered so that only looking at this angle would allow you to uncover it? That means Lex meant for you to burst this story, Clark." She hesitated, then added, "You might want to think about that a little."

Clark didn't want to, but at this point he almost couldn't help it. Lex must have known that most people weren't skilled enough to taste through the foam and flavor. How many stories had Lex set up like this, a little game with himself that maybe, someday, Clark would pick up on too?

*

Clark got into the penthouse the ordinary way, as it had been working pretty well for him lately – depending on his definition of "well" – and because this was pretty much the time for Kent, star reporter rather than He Who Jumps Building In A Single Leap. (Lex hadn't seemed very impressed with that one, anyway.)

The guard didn't let him in straight away, but after checking with the upstairs he again had free reign. He'd never tried to go the penthouse this way before, so he wasn't sure if it had always been this way or not. Another clue that he'd missed.

Lex was sitting as a marble-white table when Clark buzzed in, seemingly unperturbed by his entrance. Clark took a deep breath and clutched his folder a little tighter, taking care not to actually crush it, and walked in.

"Clark." Lex looked him up and down rapidly, expression unreadable. "Twice in a week? I'm impressed. Honored, maybe."

"Well, I'm not here on business this time."

"Oh?" Lex indicated to the folder. "What is that, then?"

Clark hesitated before sliding the folder along the table to Lex. "Yes, well. I guess that is kind of business. It's a story I was planning on handing in tomorrow, about Lexcorp."

Lex raised his eyebrows but didn't comment on the past tense, just picked up the folder. After a few minutes of looking through it, he remarked, "It's funny. As I recall, you always hated when I investigated anything even remotely concerning you or your family. Yet you've made a career out of delving into my affairs and exposing them to the world in a way that I'd never even planned on doing with your…secrets."

"Hence this visit," Clark said. This couldn't have been a new thought for Lex. Why was he bringing it up now? Maybe they were both still dancing, and they were more in step than even Clark had realized, and the same events and discussions seemed to spark reflections of the past.

Or maybe they were just playing of each other, so rapidly that it resembled simultaneity. Super-speed, after all.

"Ah," said Lex, knowing, "you haven't finally realized the value in honesty, you've merely reacquired your penchant for restraint."

"Maybe I'm realizing the value of complete honesty with those who actually need to know." When Lex just sipped his drink, he continued, "Lois has this theory about us. You and me."

Now Lex looked surprised. "_Lois._"

"She claims we're completely alike. She says that your coffee plan is akin to something I might do because we're both arrogant, strong-willed, interfering, and we always think we're right. Plus, that was all it took for Chloe to point out, like you did, that what I do now is what you did ten years ago – though of course, I was a seventeen-year-old with only my parents as back-up, not a billionaire tycoon with a security detail and a PR team."

"Merely a seventeen-year-old farmboy," said Lex, sardonic. "Fine. Let's call it even, shall we?"

"Not the point, Lex," Clark sighed. "I never let myself think about it before, but that's why there's this whole – whatever – between us now, isn't it? We've always been so similar, in so many ways. Similar in our differences, even – we're not like other people, and we must've found common ground in being outsiders. We're both secretive and fairly prone to lying. And apparently we're both obsessed with finding out each others' secrets."

"Do you have a point to go along with this?" Lex asked.

"I wanted to tell you that I understand how you're playing this game, now. I can tell because you would do some things in the same way that I would. I get it." Clark raised his eyebrows. "But did you really have to _buy the Talon_ to get my attention?"

Lex stood absolutely still, cold and impassive. Clark wondered if he would try to brush this away, deny it all, or if maybe Clark was wrong, wrong about Lex himself or wrong about the way to go about this, wrong about _everything_ –

"Well," said Lex, "nothing else seemed to work, did it? I thought you'd prefer this to creating a killer robot, or invading a small country."

"Probably," Clark agreed.

"And – a keepsake, Clark."

Because keepsakes were in the past, not the present, and that was still the problem, wasn't it? There was still time and change and difference between them. There were still their parallel paths that were never supposed to intersect. Unless one of them changed.

"I'm not going to turn in the article," Clark said softly. Even if this was giving up, maybe it was worth it. This was a concession he could make, even if it wasn't necessarily the one Lex had wanted so long ago, because this was safer for both of them now.

But Lex was shaking his head a little, walking towards Clark, a determined look on his face, and Clark's heart skipped a bit because he knew that look and it was a force to be reckoned with. And then Lex was _right there_, close again, not in his own world of solitude and safety, back in the Kent kitchen even with its perils and bad coffee. Here were their concessions both, the important ones, the right ones, hopefully.

Maybe instead of changing the lines, they could just rewrite the laws of geometry.

After all, if anyone could do it –

"Print the story," Lex murmured, his breath warm on Clark's lips.

"I'm Superman," Clark whispered back, and all it took was the look of surprise in Lex's eyes at the admission for him to lean and taste, finally, the lingering hint of rich-roasted coffee in Lex's mouth.


End file.
